


Sir Galahad Bades Your Help

by ember_alda



Series: Realms of Influence [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ember_alda/pseuds/ember_alda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squalo is a medieval lord who picks up a destitute peasant, Yamamoto.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	Sir Galahad Bades Your Help

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series of short, AU prompts exploring Yamamoto and Squalo's relationship. This particular prompt was a medieval setting.

 

His hair was itching again, despite the fact that he’d tied it back already. He _hated_ how the damned heat made the strands dry up and stick out. It was stiflingly hot, his doublet was lined with fur and velvet, and Squalo was bored to fucking death. If the horses were any slower he’d be riding on a spit being turned served up like the king’s deer.

A scowl was permanently pasted to his lips, which explained why his entourage of men was following him at a very safe distance. The young lord was known to be very temperamental, especially after being summoned by King Xanxus, who was temperamental _all the time_ and Lord Squalo was usually the one to pay in smashed bottles and wine stains. Right now all the young lord wanted to do was go home to his wonderfully cool basement, maybe execute some prisoners of war, drink a little wine, and kill some game. As he contemplated the amount of blood involved in his future activities, off to the side a short, dirty sack ran across the fervently green grass and into the yellowed dirt of the road.

Squalo would have continued to ride and trampled the dirty brat beneath the hooves of his very expensive war-horse, but three of his contingent pulled out _right in front of him_. The already throbbing vein in his head exploded, mouth gaping open ready to holler his guards deaf, before they _spoke out of turn_ , not even looking at their lord.

“You useless brat, how dare you block the passage of Lord Squalo!”

“Filthy peasant shouldn’t look into a nobleman’s eyes without bowing-”

That much was true- Squalo might _not_ have to kill that one.

“…give you a beating you won’t get up from!”

Cowering, the black haired little boy clutched the wooden stick in his hand for dear life, slowly trying to back away and make himself smaller at the same time.

“Heh heh, I’m sorry sirs, it was an honest mistake, I swear-”

The first guard didn’t even seem to hear the words before raising his fist to strike. Squalo watched for a little while, not having much else to do on the road and peasant beating was a sport well matched for boredom. The other two crowded around the child, kicking hard with iron clad boots while the boy tried to shield himself by putting his arms over his head in protection, the wooden stick braced across his back like a water-bucket yoke.

Upon further inspection, Squalo was surprised. The kid was actually dodging pretty well, and blocking the sharp points of the boots off with the rod. When he leaned in closer for a better look, he hardly saw any blood for how forcefully the guards were trying. A twisted frown out of time with a punch made Lord Squalo realize that he was actually _faking_ some of it, making the beating out to be worse than it actually was.

It seemed like the second guard picked up on this, brows knitting together in righteous anger as the peasant mocked him. The gleam of a heavy broadsword swinging quickly out of it’s sheathe startles everyone as they watch it drag up into the air and strike down right on the child’s head.

A loud shriek was followed by a dull, metallic clang.

All of them stopped, stunned as the brat lay braced on his knees, holding up the wooden stick now cleaved partway down the middle, revealing the solid metal bar concealed beneath.

“HAHAHAHA, THIS IS GREAT, DEFEATED BY A _BRAT_! YOU THREE. _HOW DARE YOU FUCKING IGNORE MEEEEEEEE_!”

Yamamoto watched in horror and fascination as the silver-haired demon watching from his horse leapt off and skewered all three guards in one quick, fleeting motion. An arc of blood sprays across the grass neatly, only the slightest speckles visible in the underside of the young noble’s chin. The madman comes back to him, and Yamamoto is wide-eyed, impressed by his savior and also numb, making it doubly easy for Squalo to scoop him up under his arm.

“You seem to have good instincts, kid. Clever, too. Got no real fear of blood, either! You’ll make a better guard then those three dunces put together.”

“Huh?”

Yamamoto didn’t realize right then that from that point on, he’d become the only bodyguard that Squalo ever used.

 

 

THE END

 


End file.
